| Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him well
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| He was alone into his distance
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| He was deep into his well
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| I could guess what he was laughing at, but I couldn’t really tell
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| Now the story’s told that Adam jumped, but I’ve been thinking that he fell
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| Together we went traveling, as we received the call
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| His destination India, and I had none at all
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| Well, I still remember laughing with our backs against the wall
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| So free of fear, we never thought that one of us might fall
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| I sit before my only candle, but it’s so little light to find my way
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| Now this story unfolds before my candle
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| Which is shorter every hour as it reaches for the day
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| But I feel just like a candle in the way
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| I guess I’ll get there, but I wouldn’t say for sure
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| When we parted we were laughing still, as our goodbyes were said
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| And I never heard from him again as each our lives we led
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| Except for once in someone else’s letter that I read
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| Until I heard the sudden word that a friend of mine was dead
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| I sit before my only candle, like a pilgrim sits beside the way
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| Now this journey appears before my candle
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| As a song that’s growing fainter the harder that I play
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| That I fear before I am a fade away
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| But I guess I’ll get there, though I wouldn’t say for sure
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| Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him long
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| And when I stood myself beside him, I never though I was as strong
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| Still it seems he stopped his singing in the middle of his song
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| Well I’m not the one to say I know, but I’m hoping he was wrong
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| I’m holding out my only candle, thou |